


I Wish You Would Write... 8

by equilateral_asshat



Series: I wish you would write... [8]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, minor depictions of violence, pinecest - Freeform, pinescest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 07:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equilateral_asshat/pseuds/equilateral_asshat
Summary: The "I wish you would write" stories are small fics written from prompts sent by users who finish the statement with the type of fic they'd like to see.





	I Wish You Would Write... 8

**Author's Note:**

> dipper fights a jerk who's hitting on mabel
> 
> [Sfw, violence warning though]

Mister Pines drug his hand over his face and twisted his upper lip in a sideways frown, staring through the doorway at his son, who was also frowning at the cast on his arm, through one eye. The other was swollen shut.

“And why, again, dear, shouldn’t I ground your brother? He got suspended for two days, Mabel, for picking fights in school! I should revoke any privileges he has.” He punctuated the statement with an angered rise of his eyebrows, staring expectantly as he waited for an answer.

“He wasn’t picking fights, daddy, he was defending my honor!” she reiterated. Pinching at the bridge of his nose, he grumbled. “No, really! There’s this jerk at school named Eddy…”

========

“I said _no,_ Eddy. I’m not interested!” she spat. She tried to step around the senior, but the upperclassman stepped sideways to block her path again, shoving a hand out against the wall to cut her off.

“Oh c’mon, Mabel. Every girl in this school wants to go on a date with me,” he insisted, giving his eyebrows a waggle, licking over the visible wires of his retainer. She felt like she might vomit right there, seeing that.

Yes, a lot of the other girls in school did think there was something redeeming about Eddy, but those girls were all poop-head fart-faces. Most other girls thought his thick wrists and blocky shoulders were strong and handsome, but they made him look like Shrek’s uglier cousin in her eyes. His big squashed nose looked like he had his sausage fingers crammed up it often, or why else would his nostrils be so friggin’ wide?! Acne covered his forehead like pins on a well traveled globe. He was built like a wine barrel with arms and legs, and somebody had slapped a bucket in a mask on top.

“I said I don’t wanna!”

“Yeah, right, the boy-crazy slut, Mabel Pines, doesn’t wanna-” Eddy started, and her face went red with rage. Before she could interject, or before his ugly cracked lips could utter another word, a hand fell on his shoulder.

“Hey, Edison,” she heard her brother say, and when the ogreish brute that had been harassing her turned to look at him, he was met with an immediate balled up fist colliding with his chin. The sudden, unexpected impact was enough to cause the mountain of hormonal, teenage flesh to wobble and step back a couple of paces.

The hallway, normally alive with chatter, had gone silent. Everyone stared; Dipper was shaking his hand and wincing, and Eddy was rolling his jaw around. With an emphatic P’TOO, he spat a tooth out into his palm. He stared at it, then glared up at Dipper, baring his teeth in rage, and revealing that one of his lower incisors had been busted off at the root.

“You little shit, I’m gonna beat you until you shit your pants, and then I’m gonna fuckin’ force your sister to date me so I won’t murder you!” He leapt towards him, bellowing, but Dipper was faster.

He sidestepped out of the way, taking the time to place a couple of quick punches into Eddy’s ribs. The big guy grunted and stumbled, whipping around with a backhand that caught Dipper right against the eye. The force was enough to cause Dipper to stumble, tripping over his own feet and landing on his back with a grunt of his own.

Immediately, he felt a large, size 14 boot slam down over his right arm. He cried out and used his left hand to punch a couple of times at the knee higher up that foot’s leg, causing Eddy to wail out himself. Dipper rolled to the side and got to his feet, touching his forearm and instantly regretting it. Not broken all the way, but definitely fractured.

Eddy looked up from his swollen knee to Dipper, bared his teeth again, and took a hurried few steps towards him. Dipper waited, and at the precise moment, sidestepped with a declaration of “LEFT HOOK!”

Fist met jaw again. There was a gross sound of flesh and bone hitting one another, and Eddy dropped like a tranq’d rhino. Dipper took a few steps past him, towards his sister, and slumped down against the wall, holding his arm tenderly.

“Dipper, what the heck?! Are you okay?!” she demanded, reaching for his arm. He pulled away and shook his head. Looking over at Eddy, who was trying to sit up, he frowned.

“Just a fracture, go get the nurse,” he insisted. Mabel nodded and turned about, paused, then turned back and bent down to kiss her brother on the cheek. He smiled at her; a nervous, honest smile. She turned back around and took off.

=========

“I see…” their father commented. He grumbled, staring back into the room again. He then glanced back to Mabel, and then to Dipper, and back again. Mabel’s eyes were enormous and pleading, her face twisted into a look of worry. With a defeated sigh, he threw his hands up. “Okay, fine, I won’t ground him-”

“Oh thank you daddy, he’d hate me if he got ground cuz of-” she started, throwing her arms around her father.

“-YET,” he finished. Mabel stepped back and pouted. “I’ll talk to your mother about it when she gets her break and can come up to see your brother. IN the meantime, I’m going to go wait for her near her station.” Mabel merely nodded.

“Oh, okay. Do I have to come too, or…?” she asked, chancing a hesitant glance towards her brother, rubbing at her right arm. It was like she was having sympathy pains. Her dad just shook his head.

“No, you stay up here with your brother. I’ll be up with your mother later. You can relay the story to her as well, then.” Mabel’s expression brightened, nodding.

As their dad turned to head for the elevator, she slipped quietly into the room and closed the door behind herself. Dipper’s head swiveled so he could look at her through his good eye.

She frowned, marching over and reaching a hand out tentatively towards him. He closed his good eye, but made no move to shrink away. Reaching out with a pair of fingers, she softly rubbed over his temple. He flinched, then sighed and leaned towards her hand.

“Your hands are always so cold,” he mused, reaching up and over with his left hand to press her palm against his swollen, bruised eye. She felt butterflies rise in her the pit of her stomach when he smiled.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, and he shook his head.

“No, it feels good. My head is throbbing and they won’t give me anything stronger than ibuprofen yet,” he reassured her. She snorted with a small laugh.

“I mean about you slugging it out with that warthog Eddy,” she mused. He shrugged.

“That’s an awfully mean thing to say, Mabel.” She furrowed her brow at him. “I thought you liked pigs, why would you compare them to that asshole?”

She guffawed, shaking her head and wiping a tear away with her free hand.

“You aren’t mad at me?” she asked. He pulled his head back and opened his good eye to stare at her incredulously.

“Why would I hate you? I just beat the shit out of a goon because he called you a slut.” With a snort and a cough, he sat up straighter. “Nobody calls _my_ Mabel a slut.”

“ _Your_ Mabel?” He shrank back a bit, looking away. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“Hey, you’re my favorite Mabel, remember?” he offered, not entirely convincing. A tinge of red was creeping onto his unbruised cheek. She quirked a smile at him, one eyebrow threatening to crawl off of her forehead and get lost in her hairline. He refused to look back at her.

“Hey, Bro-bro?” He swiveled his head back around just enough that he could roll his eye in her direction, looking like a cornered mouse. She leaned down and planted a quick smooch on his forehead. “Thanks for comin’ to my rescue, ya big dummy.”

“Heh, o-of course, sis,” he stuttered, scratching his cast against the back of his neck. “Anytime.”

“Next time, though, try not to get your bones broke.”


End file.
